First Born
by Emilee
Summary: The discovery of an ancient royal coverup propels upon Jonathan a curse he didn’t know he was under thanks to the person he was in his pastlife, and by the fault of the sleezeball he is in this life, and his extracurricular activities...
1. Chapter 1 : Extracurricular

**--- Chapter One ---**

**extracurricular**

Though the O'Connell clan hadn't given up archaeology, Jonathan had. Had enough of the stuff, he'd said, didn't need any more reasons to get himself involved in big annoying undead messes. He had better things to do, more productive ways to occupy his time.

Sure it might've sounded silly at the time; especially taking into account whose mouth all this righteous babble was coming out of. Jonathan hadn't been productive in years. But look who was laughing now.

Who knows, maybe all it takes is a few hundred mortality scares to put ones life into sharp perspective. Maybe it was his forty-second birthday, one that held specific significance being the very last birthday his father had celebrated before his own death. Maybe such a sudden reminder struck some sort of 'Wake up and get on with it!' chord in Jonathan's brain, who knew?

All that was certain was that Jonathan, for whatever reason, did something productive for a change.

He got a bloody job.

"Hellooooo?" The young woman's voice sing-songed through Jonathan's small house, filling the already sweet air with a sweeter sound. Normally this particular voice on this particular day would have had Jon hurrying down the hallway toward her, but now he was too busy packing.

The voice continued to travel closer to his bedroom, stopping just outside of his door as the young woman leaned on the doorframe, smiling that familiar smile of hers. She knocked on the wood frame, her eyes holding a summery light.

"Hello there," She repeated, seeming to be under the impression that Jonathan simply hadn't heard her calls.

Glancing up, Jonathan tried to be brief, having a difficult time once he caught a glimpse of her pretty white sundress. He swallowed, looking back down at his suitcase and his packing and his business, "Hello."

The girl's smile faltered slightly, but she pursed her lips to suppress what very well might've been a frown. "I was thinking…since it is so beautiful out, and since it is practically the first day since…oh I don't know when that it hasn't been cloudy…"

She continued to speak, walking over to him and disregarding his turning his back to her, merely wrapping her arms around him from behind and leaning her chin on his shoulder. She put special emphasis on the next sentence, sounding tedious, "And since I've finally got my degree and am finally finished with college and can finally go out with you in public without the whole of Cambridge going up in a frenzy…."

Smirking, Jonathan stopped what he was doing, tilting his head and listening to her go on. She planted a soft kiss on the side of his neck and his smile widened.

"Why don't we go on a picnic? Just us. It's so lovely out."

He winced a bit, turning around and smiling apologetically at the girl, cupping her face with his hands, "I'd love to, Bridge, but…"

"What are you packing for?" She asked suddenly, looking as if a bell went off in her head- DING DING DING! Suitcase! Shaving supplies! Folded unmentionables! He's leaving you! She squirmed out of his grasp and stepped away, walking around him to the other side of the bed, her heels clicking on the ground beneath her.

Knowing this conversation would not be a particularly pleasant one, Jonathan scratched the back of his head, "Uhhh, well..." he smirked, "I was going to call you about this…"

In all of his years, Jonathan never thought that a girl could make his heart break just by looking at him, but in the past few months he'd known Bridget, she'd become exceptionally good at just that. He hated the way her nose scrunched up when she was upset, which was different from the way it did when she was flattered or confused. Upset meant more to Jonathan, upset meant that he'd gone and done something stupid.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

Bridget's eyes widened, her voice going up into that high-pitched range, "What, you're just taking off? Where are you going?!"

"I'm not just taking off." Jonathan replied in his defense, taking on a dumbfounded look, "I was going to tell you before I left, Bridget."

He scoffed loudly, shaking his head at her as if she should know better than to think such things. As if the very thought that he, Jonathan Earl Carnahan, would ever just disappear without telling his current shag was absolutely unheard of. How dare she! Honestly! Well I never!

Wow, he could really be convincing when he wanted to be…

Jonathan continued to shake his head, his eyebrows raising as he picked up a stack of books, mumbling to himself as he put them into his steadily filling suitcase, "Course I was going to tell you, you are my…."

"I am your what?"

Wincing, Jonathan raised his eyes to meet the expectant gaze of Bridget. He gaped at her for a moment. "You're my…my…"

"Where are you going, Jonathan? You still haven't answered my question!" Bridget huffed, letting him off the hook by unknowingly changing the subject.

"I'm going on a dig! With my sister! I do have to do that every now and then, you know."

Defeated, Bridget frowned as Jonathan went back to packing. She puffed out a few huffy breaths, floppily gesturing with her hands, "Well…" she pouted, "well…where at?"

"Egypt." He replied, sitting up and pointing behind her to his desk, "Hand me that jumper, will you?"

Bridget turned around and snatched the jumper from the back of his desk chair, frowning down at it as she handed it over. Oh how she hated his old ratty tan bloody jumper. He'd had it for ages, and she was constantly telling him not to wear it, but did he listen? No! Of course not. Jonathan didn't listen to anybody, especially Bridget.

Fuelled with newfound rage at him packing that most loathed jumper, she crossed her arms over her chest with a mind to give him one hell of a word lashing. Unfortunately what came out was much less authoritative and more along the lines of pitiable, "Can I…come…with you?"

Jonathan straightened up, turning around and putting a hand on the young woman's elbow, "Honestly, darling, I'd love you to come with me. But my sister…"

"Your sister?" Bridget frowned, "But you said your sister would like me."

"Like you, yes." Jonathan replied with a nod, raising his eyebrows disbelievingly, "Like that you are twenty years my junior and a student of mine, _that_ is not likely."

"_Former_ student." She corrected firmly, looking put off. She watched him return to packing, looking rather crushed. She rocked back and forth on her feet childishly, trying to find a new approach to having him stay as she grumbled to herself, "Could at least mention me to your sister this time…rather than pretending that I don't exist…"

A quiet moment passed as Jonathan tried to ignore what Bridget was mumbling really rather loudly, and Bridget stared at the top of Jonathan's bowed head, glaring at him and willing him to look at her, apologize, and kiss her passionately. That or she was praying that his head would explode into a ball of fire.

"Bridget, I invented the staring game, I can keep this up for ages."

"Oh bloody hell Jonathan!" She groaned, "Well… how long are you going to be gone?"

Clearly this was going to be the part where his distinct charm would have to go into overdrive. Bridget had her thick moments, and if she hadn't been having one now, she probably would've realized the reason Jonathan suddenly became so affectionate. He put down his pocket watch and moved over to her, his hands finding her own.

"Not long, the usual dig time," He said, his voice and expressions soft.

Bridget pouted, "What's the usual dig time?"

"Oh four, five months tops." Jonathan replied, hoping his nonchalance would soften the blow. He winced when Bridget's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, clearly he'd been mistaken. He began shaking his head, squeezing her hands and repeating the same word, "No no no no no no no no, Bridge…"

"Five months! What am I supposed to do for five months while you're gone!"

"I don't know, work?"

"I work at a library Jonathan." Bridget replied, eyes blazing. She'd said this as if it were an all-inclusive response, "I have no fun at the library, the only fun I have is with you. So I'm going to effectively have no fun for five bloody months!"

Fighting the urge to laugh at her swearing, Jonathan made the mistake of smiling, which only irritated Bridget further. He chuckled as she huffed and stormed out of the room, following her close behind. "Bridget, wait, I'm sorry."

She'd stopped sooner than he'd expected, causing him to right near trip over her in the hall. He was laughing, but her face was stoic, "This isn't because of what I said last night, is it?"

There was a tense pause. Jonathan's mind flashed back to the night before. One would think after all of the lager he'd consumed in a mere matter of hours Jonathan would have a difficult time remembering most of the evening, and this was generally true. All except for the part where Bridget had dramatically used the dreaded 'L' word.

"I love you, Jonathan." She'd said, her voice thick with sincerity and brandy.

Jonathan had stared at her, and for a moment felt like returning her sentiments. After all, her hair had looked particularly golden, haloing her with those perfect curls, her eyes looking just so blue and her skin looking just so….

But to get to the important bit, Jonathan hadn't returned her 'I love you' with an 'I love you too', and instead ruined the diploma ceremony for a few innocent bystanders by vomiting in the English rose bushes.

So, of course Jonathan's sudden departure was partly due to what Bridget had said to him the night before. Their relationship was steadily moving past the innocent student-lecturer fling it had been for the past five months, and the marriage and babies and happily ever after that was barreling his way shook Jonathan's bachelor instincts to the core, and terrified him more than any ancient Egyptian curse ever could.

It was a lucky coincidence on Jonathan's part that Evelyn had written him about a dig she and Rick were taking Alex on for his thirteenth birthday, a letter which arrived eerily enough just that day. Typically Jonathan wasn't the type to pack up and take off on such short notice, but after the strong reaction he'd had to Bridget's advances- ignoring of course the likelihood of his sudden illness pertaining to the amount of alcohol he'd consumed that night –he thought it was best to take the newfound opportunity to clear his head.

After all, he wouldn't want to do a silly little thing and actually tell Bridget how he felt about her. At least not until he was absolutely sure. Absolutely sure and absolutely absent for at least five months. Just in case.

"No, darling. Of course it isn't."

His reply was chipper, but it didn't seem to convince Bridget. She narrowed her eyes at him, "Do you then?"

Jonathan swallowed hard, "Do I what?"

"Do you love me?" She exclaimed tiredly.

Opening his mouth to reply, he shut it again when Bridget's eyes lit up, but felt that stab to his heart when he saw that light leave her eyes. He winced, then frowned, "Bridget, you know how I feel about you."

"I would know if you ever expressed any feelings verbally." She grumbled, looking put off and looking away, not wanting him to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Jonathan grinned, grabbing her elbows and pulling her toward him, "Why do I need that when I can tell you like this…"

_Like this_ meant a deep kiss, which Jonathan tugged her into, his hands relocating from her elbows to her waist as he kissed her. He smiled into the kiss when he felt her relax. She'd never been too hard to push over.

The kiss lasted a moment, and by the time Bridget pulled back she was smiling contentedly with her eyes closed. Jonathan watched her as she took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before opening her eyes. She raised her eyebrows, "You know that when you come back I'm not just going to be waiting here for you."

Jonathan laughed, "Are you not?"

She shook her head, biting on her lip playfully, "In fact, I might have even found someone new. Someone younger. Someone who isn't balding quite as quickly."

Putting on a hurt look, he opened his mouth wide, cracking a smile when she went up on her toes, kissing him on the mouth and giggling into the kiss.

Glad that she was not longer upset with him, even if it was only for the time being, Jonathan pulled her into a tight embrace, rocking her gently back and forth. She giggled mischievously, "Oh, all right. You can go on your sodding dig. As long as you promise to come back."

"Of course I'll come back. I have got a job here you know."

Bridget jabbed him in the ribs, "Oh ha ha ha."

Jonathan smiled, kissing her forehead, "Just wish me luck, all right. It'd be nice to find something for a change."

6


	2. Chapter 2 : Excavation

**--- Chapter Two ---**

**excavation**

"I simply cannot believe that we haven't found _anything_." Evelyn complained as she took her place next to Rick at the fire in the middle of camp.

Glancing up from his card game with Alex, Jonathan raised his eyebrows good-naturedly at his sister, "I seem to remember someone always reminding me in these uncertain times that patience is a virtue."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed, "Touché." She replied with a bit of a smile, before going back into moaning mode, "But it doesn't make any sense, it isn't as if we are amateurs. We've done all of this dozens of times, only this time we aren't having any luck."

"Maybe it's Uncle Jon." Alex piped up, his hands reaching for another card as he shrugged at his mother, "Usually he's too scared to come on digs with us."

"Not scared, Alex." Jonathan corrected, eyes trained on his cards, "Precautionary."

"Whatever." Alex droned, mimicking the way his uncle was speaking, "Anyway you are probably bad luck."

"And why wouldn't that surprise me?" Rick spoke up, looking up from cleaning his shotgun. He smiled when Jonathan shot him a glare, tilting his head to the side as if to ask for any objections. Jonathan didn't seem to have any.

Instead he narrowed his eyes at the gun in O'Connell's hand, shaking his head and waving his hand of cards about as he spoke- clearly unaware that Alex was taking this opportunity to sneak a peek, "Now why have you got all of those out again, aren't we past all that?"

Jonathan said this with such a tone of exhaustion, such a flare of dramatics that not only did Rick roll his eyes, but that annoyed smirk that he'd retired for quite a while resurfaced, and he shook his head at his brother-in-law. "You know, you're one to talk. You didn't have your wife killed, your son kidnapped and your life threatened by a giant bug."

"Yes well all the more reason why the bachelor's life is the life for me, I'm afraid."

O'Connell wasn't satisfied, he firmly snapped closed his revolver, "And yet, you continue to complain even when you're the one who walked away with a big honkin' diamond."

"Bachelor's life?" Alex piped up, unknowingly interrupting a potential argument, "I thought you said you had a girlfriend, Uncle Jon."

Jonathan turned his scowl from father to son, glowering at Alex as he felt the surprised gaze Evelyn was shooting him from across the fire. Okay so maybe he hadn't told her about Bridget…yet...

"Girlfriend?" Evelyn asked, raising a brow, "You haven't mentioned anything about a girlfriend."

Forcing a smile, Jonathan looked up at Evie with an attempt at an innocent gaze, shrugging his shoulders, "Must've slipped my mind."

Evelyn looked impressed, sitting up a bit straighter, "You-"

"Didn't slip your mind with me."

Jonathan winced, swatting at his nephew.

"You told me all about her." Alex sustained, leaning away from Jonathan's swatting arm. He laughed, sing-songing, "_Briiiiidddddggeeettttt_…."

Scooting over to whack Alex in the arm with his hand of cards, Jonathan avoided the haughty gaze of his sister. Well, attempted to. Eventually curiosity overwhelmed him and he glanced up to find both Evelyn and Rick staring at him with identical raised eyebrows.

They looked amused.

They didn't know the half of it.

"You told Alex about your courtship and you didn't tell me?" Evelyn asked, sounding slightly hurt.

Rick put his arm around his wife, shaking his head and looking at Jonathan disappointedly, "He didn't tell me either, honey."

Evelyn cracked a smile, elbowing Rick and shrugging him away, turning her attention back on Jonathan, "Why didn't you tell us about her? What is she like? What does she do?"

There was protocol for this, it was practically in the Carnahan Family rule book. Rick was totally and completely accustomed to this conversation, and was genuinely amazed that it wasn't striking Evie with some serious déjà-vu.

Rick watched, disengaged, as Jonathan sputtered and blushed, covering up genuine discomfort by raising his voice and babbling charm. Evie quizzed him about the girl, and Jonathan skillfully avoided every question, answering something else or calling into question Evie's interest in his private life and fascination with his romantic situation. Routine.

This happened every few years, every few months sometimes every few days back when Jonathan was still living in the west wing of their house. Evelyn would excitedly interrogate him about a love-interest, Jonathan would ignore her or put on a skillful cross-examination about something totally irrelevant in an attempt to throw her off topic. It typically wound up a riveting success if he could some how work in Egyptology or the Book of the Dead.

All of this was terribly amusing to watch. It was the post-interrogation let-down that Rick didn't particularly enjoy. The part where Evie would realize that this was just another one of Jonathan's one day, two day, possibly up to two week flings, and all hopes of any long-term happiness for her brother would be thrown out, leaving only empty bourbon bottles in it's wake.

Jonathan didn't seem to mind this routine, but that wasn't Rick's problem. Evie was his problem, and despite how he wanted to warn her, shake her shoulders and tell her not to get her hopes up, he knew that either way she'd be let down again.

"Heap? Of the Cambridge Heap family?"

Jonathan was scratching the back of his head, letting out a pained noise, "Oh I don't know, Evie. Somehow I doubt that."

Looking put off, Evelyn sulked a bit, "So basically, all you've managed to tell me about her is that her name is Bridget Heap, she's got blonde hair and she wears baby blue…sometimes."

He clapped his hands, grinning widely, "That about sums her up, yeah."

Evelyn moaned, Alex grinned and Rick looked wound up as Jonathan got to his feet laboriously, rubbing his hands together. "Well that's all for me, chaps, I'm off to bed. Night!"

About once a month Jonathan did something, even when away at Cambridge, miles from the O'Connell's in London, that Rick merited worthy of a good old-fashioned American punch in the jaw. This really would have been one of those times, if it hadn't been for the look that only Rick caught Jonathan give from over his shoulder as he walked toward his tent. A look that made Rick wonder just how well this particular situation fit into the usual routine, just how much of a fling this girl was.

After all, they'd been on the dig for four months already.

And if Jonathan was still mentioning some girl he'd fancied four months ago, perhaps it was just a bit longer than his usual flings.

---

"How we met?" Jonathan repeated for the third time, staring at his sister with a look thoroughly convincing her that he was hiding something. He had that taken aback face, his eyes wide and he kept nodding, looking like an idiot.

It had been days since Evelyn had originally heard about Jonathan's apparent girlfriend via Alex, and since then she'd been trying to find the perfect opportunity to bring the subject up for discussion again. Now that she and Jonathan were alone in the Dakhla temple she had half a mind to do a bit more than just dust for new artifacts. Since Jonathan was contributing his usual minimal effort to the dig, dusting off the many ancient fixtures on the mantelpiece of what appeared to be the storage room with negligible exertion; Evelyn figured that if he wasn't going to be of much help archeologically, he could at least shed some insight on his relationship situation.

The information he was sharing was not what Evelyn had in mind.

"Yes, Jonathan, how you met. It's a perfectly reasonable question for a new couple." Evelyn replied, shaking her head as she routinely blew the dust out of an old bowl.

Jonathan scoffed under his breath, "Hardly new."

"What was that?"

Sending his sister a reassuring smile, Jonathan shook his head, feeling it better to answer her first question than the last one, "We met at Cambridge."

"Well of course you met at Cambridge, Jonathan. That's the only place you've been lately, Cambridge." Evelyn frowned as she brushed off a grimy wall to see the painting that lay beneath all of the sand. For someone standing in what was a real breakthrough archeological dig site, she was alarmingly more concerned with the love life of her sibling, and continued to speak as she worked diligently, "Where in Cambridge? The lawn? The courtyard? In the café near your flat? Where?"

"In the library." Jonathan replied, after a laborious sigh. "We met in the library, she works there."

"I thought it was mostly students who worked in the library."

Jonathan winced, "Yes, that's right."

Hearing his sister make that interesting "Hmm" noise that she made whenever she was surprised, yet convinced, of something he was telling her, Jonathan's eyebrows raised. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought. If he could only stick to short answers, he might be able to get away with not lying, whilst not giving away anything about Bridget that Evie might find objectionable.

"So she studied at Cambridge?"

"Yes."

_Ha! One—love._

"Oh really? What was her concentration?"

"British History."

_Two—love._

"Did she take your Egyptology class?"

"Yes, I believe she did."

_Three—love. Oh this was too easy._

"How charming. What year did she receive her degree?"

_Bugger_.

Jonathan's mouth opened, but there was no reply, he tilted his head to the side and when Evelyn turned around to look at him she frowned. Taking a step toward him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Have you forgotten?"

"Well…" Jonathan stalled, wincing. Oh it had been so noble of him, not lying to her directly about Bridget. Really he rather enjoyed being somewhat honest when given the chance. It was a pity she had to go and ruin the perfect conditions under which he was allowed to be slightly sincere. "I'm not entirely-"

Evelyn's gasp caught Jonathan off, and for a moment he thought she was going to call him out, that she'd worked it out in her head and that she was about to start shouting. Only the shouting didn't come, and instead Evelyn's boot heels clicked across the stone flooring until she was next to Jonathan by the shelving and he could turn to see the look on her bewildered face.

Instead of immediately wondering what Evelyn was gaping at and why she was reaching for something just above his head, Jonathan's mind was filled with something much more resembling celebratory big band music, and it wasn't until sand expelling from the box Evelyn retrieved from the shelf near his head found it's way into Jonathan's eyes that he could be bothered with what she was baffling over.

"Bloody hell, what is that?" Jonathan complained through a cough. He rubbed at his eyes, and flinched when Evelyn, holding the heavy wooden box at arms length in front of her, blew dust from the lid. Fine powder, a mixture of dust and grainy sand, exploded off the small chest, creating a gloomy fog in the otherwise bright storage closet.

Completely enamored with her newfound treasure, Evelyn lowered the box to the ground below her, kneeling in front of it and brushing off the top. "These symbols…this sort of chest contains secrets."

"Now how could you possibly know that?"

"_Kah-rah sha-tei uh Seti po-tant._" Evelyn answered, speaking clear and precise in Ancient Egyptian. She smiled to herself, tilting her head to examine the paintings done along all four sides of the chest.

Jonathan's brow knitted as his mind failed to come up with a translation for whatever his sister had just spoken. Obviously she knew what it meant; and Jonathan couldn't help but internally smirk at the slight knot his stomach still clenched to whenever he heard any Ancient Egyptian come out of the mouth of his sister. He wouldn't put it past her to utter another curse aloud.

He was nearly going to ask what the translation was, when out of the shadows of the storage room doorway an annoyingly sneaky thirteen year old answered his question, but not without scaring the wits out of his unsuspecting uncle, "_Seti I, Not For Prying Eyes_."

Snapping out of her trance, Evelyn smiled proudly up at Alex as he came to kneel by the box, "Very good Alex!"

Jonathan caught the smug grin Evelyn shot his way, swelling with pride, but he was too busy clutching his heart where Alex had frightened him to return it with a sneer. He watched as the two of them ogled the chest with the utmost attention, growing impatient.

"Oh wow, Mum! This is a real find!"

Rolling his eyes, Jonathan peered over their shoulders, but saw little that he could understand without the aid of a textbook or a severe jogging of his dusty memory. "Why would Seti have need for a box full of secrets? He was the Pharaoh, what could he possibly have to hide?"

"Perhaps there was an ancient royal cover-up." Evelyn replied offhandedly, studying the familiar lock that protected the chest. Her eyebrow flinched as she noticed that the lid was loose, and didn't seem to be locked down properly. Her fingers slid in between the crevice between the lid and the sides of the box, clearing out dust until she could slide open the lid.

Jonathan and Alex watched, one with strikingly more interest than the other, as Evelyn furrowed her brow as she read from the contents of the box silently. When the look on her face shifted to one of more surprise, Alex could not stand the anticipation, "Well? What's it say?"

"Apparently I was right." She replied, looking up at her son and brother, eyes wide, "There was an ancient royal cover-up."

---

"So this is what I think it means." Evelyn began, interrupting the excited discussion that was echoing throughout the campsite. The family was sitting in front of the fire, having excavated the storage room for anything else relating to the secret chest. The contents of the chest had been the topic of speculation all night, and Evie finally felt that she understood the reason for the concealment of their find.

"We all know that Seti the First had a son, Ramses."

"And a daughter, Nefretiri." Alex interrupted, nodding toward his mother.

Evelyn smiled, "Of course, mustn't forget her. But it seems that Ramses the Great was not, in fact, Seti's first son, as history has led us to believe. From what these scrolls tell, it seems that Seti's first son was called Menes, but something happened to him."

"Wait a minute, you're saying that for thousands of years we've been led to believe that Ramses the Great was the heir to Seti's throne, but there was a mistake?" Jonathan asked from across the fire, leaning back on his blankets and holding a bottle of liquor.

"No no, not a mistake, a deliberate cover-up of who he was." Evie replied, shaking her head, her eyes lit up in that excited glow, "It seems to me that he shamed the family, and oddly enough it looks as if he stole from the temple of Horus of all things."

"Why would a son of a king need to steal anything, let alone from the temple of a god?" Rick's low voice hardly sounded like a question at all, only serving as a prompt for Evelyn to continue her theories.

Shaking her head delightedly, Evie motioned to the scrolls in front of her as she spoke, "He was a thrill seeker, and greedy. The people in the kingdom loved him, he was dear to everyone in his family, I suspect a real charmer- but had this….insatiable lust for gold and jewels."

"Sounds familiar." O'Connell glanced at Jonathan, smirking, "You said this was Nefretiri's brother, huh?"

Evelyn ignored her husband, too caught up in her hypothesis to consider any of that at the moment, "So he stole." Her voice grew louder and her words quickened as she became more excited by what might be newly discovered history, "He stole from the temple of Horus and was cursed by the god."

Jonathan, who had been pondering Rick's comment, groaned suddenly at the mention of another curse, "Oh bloody hell, hasn't it been a well established rule in this family that once a curse is mentioned we calmly step away?"

"Oh Jonathan don't be ridiculous. This curse can't affect us, it was put upon a man thousands of years ago, a man who was banished and no one ever heard of until now-"

"Oh and what a coincidence we just _happen_ to be the only ones who know about it. Brilliant." Jonathan moaned, shaking his head. "Evie, if ever there was a curse to be fulfilled, it's like we've signed up ahead of time in another bloody lifetime."

"I'm sure this one has been fulfilled, Jonathan." Evelyn droned through clenched teeth.

Though Alex had seemed to have been nodding off earlier in the conversation, suddenly he spoke, "What is the curse?" He yawned a bit, speaking through the yawn, "Death? Un-death? What?"

"Well that's the interesting bit, he wasn't the one who was cursed, his first child was cursed. It seems that is why he was banished from the Kingdom, everyone feared the birth of his first child and what good is a Pharaoh who cannot carry on the line with a son?" Evelyn picked up the parchment she'd been reading, frowning as realization struck, "Only…"

There was a pause as Evelyn read the inscription again.

"Only what?" Rick asked.

"Only there never was a child." Her voice had softened, "There is a word of warning, just here…it says that the Med-Jai are charged with making sure that the child is never born, that even if in this lifetime Menes does not father a child, any child in any lifetime will bring about…" She looked up, meeting Rick's eyes, "The end of mankind."

9


	3. Chapter 3 : Expecting

-- Chapter Three --

**-- Chapter Three --**

**expecting**

"You've got everything? Last time you left your house keys here, have you got your house keys?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes, laughing out loud, "Yes, Evie. I've got everything."

The remainder of the dig had flown by after the discovery of the Menes Scrolls. Evelyn had the family searching through every chamber in the temple to find anything else they could about the dethroned prince, a process that had proved exhausting. All Jonathan wanted now was to return to his house in Cambridge and relax, but at this rate his sister was going to make him miss his train.

"That's what you said last time, and you remember how angry Rick was when he had to bring your keys to the station." Evelyn reminded in a motherly tone, following her brother down the spiral staircase of the O'Connell Manor and across the foyer toward the door.

"Must I remind you that I am in fact an adult, sis."

"Well since you're continuously setting out to prove otherwise, perhaps I do need a reminder, though I can't promise I'll believe it." Evelyn quipped back, stepping in front of him with her hands on her hips and her nose in the air.

Jonathan couldn't help but smile, shaking his head. "Look, I'd love to stay and debate my age with you—"

"Oh it isn't your age, but rather the age you act that I'm willing to argue." Evelyn replied with a laugh, "I'm sure we'll both agree that you are a very sound forty-two if we're talking numbers."

"—but I have got a train to catch." He finished, eyes narrowing good-naturedly.

Evelyn nodded, placing her hands decisively on her skirt and stepping out of the way of the door, "All right, all right. Off you go then."

Smiling, Jonathan started for the door knob when a gasp from his sister stopped his hand in mid-air. He raised his eyebrows, turning to look at her slowly. She stood by the door with her hands over her mouth. It wasn't until Jonathan gave a slight nod for her to explain that she suddenly hurried off toward the library.

"Jonathan. I forgot to tell you." She was saying, and he reluctantly followed to find out what she meant.

Before he even reached the library doors she reappeared, holding a book with a few tattered papers stuffed into it. Her eyes were wild again, like she'd made another remarkable discovery. "Menes. I realized something while I was reading last night."

"Oh Evie, can't we give that poor chap a rest? We've been going on about him for weeks now." Jonathan moaned, turning tail and heading for the front door again.

Evelyn followed, tapping her book, "Yes, but Jonathan last night I found a loophole for the curse, or…not a loophole…rather a….ritual. A ritual can be performed to end the curse and could possibly save the life of the child that would otherwise be killed. I don't even think the Med-Jai know about this, it's like we're the only ones who-"

"Evie, I don't know what you're talking about." He interrupted, turning to face her once he returned to the front doorway, "Can I just go? What do I need to know this for anyway…"

Incensed, Evelyn snapped closed her book and glared at her brother, folding her arms across her chest, "Fine then. Fine. Right, there's no reason why my own brother would have any interest in my discoveries."

Jonathan rolled his eyes, beginning to say something to Evelyn before she spoke again.

"Best be getting back. I suppose Bridget is waiting for you."

Eyebrows raising, Jonathan stared at his sister, who wasn't looking at him. She was instead glaring at the ground, but he could see the glower soften as she realized what she'd said. She looked up at him, all traces of anger faded in her face.

Jonathan stared dumbfounded at this sudden transformation. Evelyn looked over her shoulder, glancing around the room to make sure that Rick or Alex weren't anywhere in earshot, "Is she? Waiting for you, I mean."

Laughing, Jonathan shook his head, "Uhh, sure. I mean, I hope she is."

Evelyn's excited bounce made Jonathan laugh again. She beamed at him, "What's she like- oh please tell me! I won't say anything to Rick or Alex, I've just got to know about her."

Taken off guard and finding himself unable to contain his grin, Jonathan looked away, chuckling, "All right, all right, what do you want to know?"

"Do you love her?"

Blinking, Jonathan let out a nervous laugh, "Bloody hell, can we start with something easier?"

He avoided her prying eyes, and that gave away more than he knew. Evelyn nodded, smiling knowingly. "Of course we can. How about…do you miss her?"

That familiar pained noise that Jonathan made when he wanted to make it clear that he didn't feel like talking about whatever the current topic of conversation was, was interrupted by Jonathan's nervous final answer of, "Yes, I suppose I do miss her. I mean, it's been nearly six months, you'd miss anyone after that long."

"Oh charming, Jonathan. I'm sure she would love to hear that."

"Well what do you want me to say, Evie?" Jonathan laughed, wishing to be anywhere but there at that moment, especially as he was talking much more than he thought he should, "She's lovely. I mean she's….she's Bridget. She's a good kid."

Mortified, Jonathan hoped his wince wasn't too obvious. Kid? Bloody hell, he might as well paint "STUDENT PROFESSIOR COURTSHIP" across the foyer floors at this rate!

"Is she younger than you?" Evelyn asked, frowning slightly, though not seeming to suspect any fraudulent behavior.

Fake smile faltering slightly, Jonathan's reply was timely, "A bit."

Feeling panicked, Jonathan decided it best to go ahead and leave the Bridget-quizzing at that, and turned swiftly toward the door again. "Ah well, best be off. Don't want to miss my train."

He was gone before Evelyn had a chance to reply, kissing her on the cheek and mumbling a hurried farewell, something along the lines off 'see-you-in-an-indefinite-amount-of-time' before disappearing out the door; but she was pleased by what she had gotten out of him. It was more than she'd ever heard about any of the girls prior to Bridget, and she felt confident that it was a step in the right direction for Jonathan. A direction that could possibly lead to stability, affection, children, everything that Evelyn had wished for her bumbling brother since the death of their parents—a real home.

Unfortunately there was another equally large part of Evelyn's subconscious that was almost certain he'd bugger it up.

--

Knocks on the door of Jonathan's house made Bridget terribly nervous. It was for this reason that she stood paralyzed in the kitchen, a quarter of a banana stuffed in her mouth and an old pith helmet perched atop her head.

Well, it was for that reason that she was paralyzed, the banana and the pith helmet could not really be blamed on the knock upon the door, but rather played to Bridget's craving for yellow, peel-able fruit and her prior rummaging through Jonathan's closet.

The pith helmet made her giggle, and also made her look quite dashing, she thought, though she couldn't believe that Jonathan had ever donned the hat in sincerity.

A second round of taps on the door rattled Bridget's scattered brain from her musings about her present appearance, and sent her begrudgingly to the door. She hated visitors, and most of the time merely peered through the windows surrounding the front entrance and pretended nobody was home. After all, she was currently living in Jonathan's house completely incognito—honestly, what _would_ the neighbors think!

The pith helmet was discarded before she made it to the door, and the banana chewed and swallowed as she pulled back the curtains to sneak a glance at the caller. When she saw who was occupying the porch she sighed, relieved, and pulled open the door, but quickly stepped behind it so as not to be spotted from outside.

"I swear, no matter how many times you tell me you are coming by, every time I freeze up whenever you knock. I'm always worried it's going to be the neighbors, my mother- or worse, the Headmaster." Bridget moaned, closing and locking the door behind her friend.

Rose clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she charged immediately for the kitchen, arms laden with heavy bags of groceries, with which Bridget made no offer to help. Rose was an older woman, plump and motherly, and had been cleaning Jonathan's filthy flat since before Bridget had entered into his life. Jonathan trusted her, and Rose in turn kept him spoiled by doing more than what was normally asked of those in her trade, while keeping an eye on every aspect of his personal and professional life as an unwelcome favor. It was for this reason that Bridget came to Rose for help while Jonathan was away, and it was Rose's particular motherly charm that convinced her to keep quiet about Bridget's current situation.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, dear girl," The older woman placed the heavy bags on the kitchen counters with a groan, before setting her beady eyes critically onto Bridget, "Nobody knows a thing about this but myself and my Raymond."

Sighing, Bridget fell into a chair near the kitchen table, watching Rose unpack, "I know, I know. But I can't help but worry that somebody is going to find out."

Disapproving eyebrows raised, Rose launched into her familiar triad against Jonathan's absence, "Perhaps then word would get round to that man of yours, and he'd get himself home where he belongs."

"He's on a dig, Rose. He didn't know before he left about any of this." Bridget hurried to defend him, as she always did, instead putting the blame on herself with another tired sigh, "How could he have known? I didn't even know. Bloody stupid, I was."

"Now don't be harping down on yourself, love."

Bridget looked down for a moment, smiling softly to herself before returning her eyes to Rose, blinking when she found that the woman had already put away every last grocery bought. How _did_ she do that? Bridget could hardly keep her laundry in the hamper, and this woman could put away food (no pun intended) quicker than she could say _god save the queen!_

However the old woman seemed unaware of Bridget's wide-eyed reaction to her timing, walking over to the girl and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Been nearly five months, Mr. Carnahan should be walking through those doors and back to take care of you properly any day now.

Unfortunately that thought rather made Bridget feel worse than better, a feeling that was clearly represented on her face, and that made Rose chuckle deeply, "Oh and the state you're in sure is going to surprise the life out of him, poor dear."

"Poor dear? Who, Jonathan?" Bridget replied, laughing ironically, "Right, sure, poor dear him. Poor dear me! He's the one who buggered off to Egypt while I'm here, all alone, can't even set foot outside of this house without rumors of my indecent behavior swarming the whole of Cambridge…and you say poor him that he's going to have to come home to find me….me…."

Letting out an aggravated cry, she stumbled for words to describe her…her….

"Pregnant."

Finally exhaling, Bridget frowned at Rose, nodding her head, "Right. That."

15


	4. Chapter 4 : Expletives

**--- Chapter Four ---**

**expletives**

Actually, all in all Jonathan took the whole thing surprisingly well, generally speaking that is. In fact, apart from the initial shock and screaming, one might even say that he acted a real gentleman about the condition of things. However, Bridget understandably had trouble moving past the expression that had occupied his face when he first saw her.

In fact, had she been there, she might've recognized said expression as similar to the one he wore upon his first meeting with the Scorpion King.

Though it wouldn't have made her feel any better.

She had been performing her thrice daily Official Fridge Scrummage (note "official"- her actual rate of food scavenging per day hit a very healthy eight to nine times since her pregnancy) when she heard the front door ease open. Her eyes went wide and in a fluid motion she'd closed the refrigerator door and leaned back against it, her hand over her mouth. The refrigerator backed up to the wall opposite the front door, and when Bridget leaned around the corner she could see the top of Jonathan's head as he dropped his heavy suitcase on the foyer floor.

Successfully suppressing the urge to leap into Jonathan's arms, Bridget had to calmly remind herself of Jonathan's unawareness of their…achievement, and that charging at him with a belly full of baby might be a bit more than he could handle. Especially since he'd just spent some quality time on the train from King's Cross to Cambridge, and that alone was enough to drive anybody mental.

She smoothed her dress, deciding that since Jonathan was uninformed of her actually staying at his flat, she could gather her thoughts before sneaking up on him. After all, he'd probably head into the bedroom first anyway—

As Bridget turned the corner around the fridge, her forehead came in sharp collision with Jonathan's chin, and they both reacted with a yelp.

"Bloody fucking hell!" Jonathan shouted, more out of surprise than of pain, staring at Bridget for the mere fact that she was just _there_, not having let his eyes wander away from her face quite yet.

Though one hand was protectively pressed against her belly, Bridget's other hand lifted to rub her forehead, wincing and preparing for the second cry of shock that would inevitably expel from Jonathan's gaping mouth.

But he still hadn't noticed. Grinning good-naturedly, he shook his head at Bridget, "Buggar all, you scared me, Bridge. What are you doing here?"

Bridget gaped as Jonathan laughed and pulled her into a hug, unable to believe that he hadn't noticed what she felt was a fairly colossal detail. Her smile softened for a very brief moment as she felt his lips against the top of her head, his arms around her—but that being said, the moment was very brief because it only takes so long for even an idiot to realize he's hugging a pregnant woman.

As Bridget's belly brushed against Jonathan's own, he froze and she froze in suit. Bridget winced, but instead of mimicking her wince, Jonathan pulled back from her suddenly, his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arms length.

Then, he screamed.

Perhaps screamed isn't the gallant, manly sort of word Jonathan would have liked his cry to be described with, but it was a scream nevertheless. Scream most adequately fit the noise, and it was coupled rather nicely with the shriek that Bridget chimed in with.

Panic stricken, Jonathan stared bewilderedly at Bridget, "What are you screaming for- you knew about this!"

Finding her breath coming at a quicker pace, Bridget stared, looking near tears, "You frightened me."

"You're…you're….with child!" Jonathan spat, finding it difficult to put a label on what he was seeing, finding that shaking his head intensely wasn't helping him think.

"I know that!"

"Wuh…wuhh…." Jonathan blubbered, shaking his head as he let go of Bridget's shoulders and began to pace, eyes wild. "When did this happen? What did you do? Why are you pregnant!"

Stammering, Bridget's forehead crinkled and she waved her hands as she answered him, "Why am I pregnant? What did I DO? I'm pregnant because of you, you great bloody tosser!"

"But-but-but…." Jonathan flailed, smacking his hands over his face a little too hard, before letting his hands slide down his face until he could peek over timidly at her, "But when?"

Bridget looked at him for a moment, her breathing starting to slow down as she took pity on him, helpless as he looked standing there. He was, after all, her weakness, and she hated him for it. No matter how much of a complete prat he was being, she could always count on her sympathies and 'well he doesn't know better's to kick in eventually. Always bloody did.

Wondering why her eyes suddenly welled up with tears, she shrugged her shoulders, brushing her hair from her eyes as she shook her head, "The doctor told me I was nearly two months along a few weeks after you left. I suppose I was too busy with commencement and all my papers to notice any of the symptoms."

"What like, vomiting and feelings of emotional anarchy?"

Snapping, Bridget shouted her reply, "Jonathan don't you think I would notice vomiting and feelings of emotional anarchy?!"

Jonathan cowered a bit, grumbling at his feet after a tense silence, "Well then maybe you aren't-"

"Of course I am! Look at me!"

Wincing, Jonathan glanced up at her timidly, shooting her a helpless look, which she greeted with eyes glaring daggers. After a moment of shrinking under her gaze, his indignant side returned and his forehead creased, standing up a bit straighter, "Hang on a minute, why didn't you contact me about this, err, let's call it a happy accident, shall we?"

Bridget ignored the 'happy accident' dig and took at step toward him, pointing an accusatory finger directly at his nose, "That is a bit difficult to accomplish, _Jonathan_, when you disappear to God-knows-where and don't leave me any way to reach you! What was I suppose to do, hop on my magic carpet? Spin a globe and point at a random spot and just hope that that's where you happened to be?! It's difficult to get in touch with someone when you DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!"

"Well you don't have to shout-"

"I think I do have to shout! I think I have every right to bloody shout, Jonathan!" Bridget continued, shouting, naturally. But behind the shouting there was all the loneliness and the worrying that he wouldn't come back, and the tears that she'd, by her standards, done a quite good job of holding in, were starting to emerge. "I've had to deal with this all on my own, and the least you can do is be nice to me."

Heart breaking, Jonathan took her in, standing there in all her pregnant glory. Other than the obvious vast physical change, she looked just the same as when he left her. Blonde curls were haphazardly tied back and thin arms dangling on either side of that enormous belly made them look all the more twiggy. Her eyes had gone puffy and the tears running down her cheeks caused her fair skin to burn a bright red, and with a small flicker of a smile Jonathan noticed for the first time a smudge of chocolate just above her mouth.

He'd stood there looking at her without a word until her slow tears became a whimpering sob, and he took a step forward to catch her in a belated embrace. Bridget's arms circled around him and clung tightly as he rubbed her back and whispered muffled apologies into her hair.

"I'm sorry, Bridge. You just…you caught me off guard, darling."

"Caught you off guard?" She sniffled, laughing ironically, "Imagine my surprise six months ago."

As Jonathan was rolling his eyes he felt her grip tighten and frowned slightly. He pulled back a bit, reaching a hand to her cheek to smudge away tears, "Other than my being a grumpy bugger, are you all right?"

The woman nodded her head, swallowing the lump in her throat, though it hardly did any good. The tears returned nevertheless and she had to look away from him to avoid making matters even worse, "I just didn't know if you were going to come back."

For reasons beyond his immediate knowledge, along with the tugging at his heartstrings that Bridget's sentiment automatically inspired, it also brought back a sudden flashback of the whole reason he'd left her to begin with: the dig. More importantly, it brought back the findings in the dig, the curse that Evie had mentioned, of Prince Menes and something about a child….

"Jonathan?"

Bridget's voice snapped him out of it and he looked down at her with wide eyes, "Err, what?"

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, she tilted her head to the side, "What is it? What are you thinking?"

Jonathan swallowed- Christ, why had his mouth suddenly gone so dry? He smiled weakly at her, taking her hand suddenly and starting for the bedroom. "I have an idea."

"What? Jonathan you're scaring me."'

It didn't take long to locate his spare suitcase, and only briefly blinking in surprise at the way Bridget had taken over his bedroom, he began filling the suitcase with her things. While he bustled about, Bridget sat down with worried eyes on the bed, watching him apprehensively.

All right, so this was not exactly how she'd envisioned his homecoming. Somehow even though she knew Jonathan through and through, knew his quirks, knew his fears, knew that he probably wouldn't be nearly as excited about fatherhood as she would've liked him to be- Bridget had pictured something maybe just a little more picturesque for their reunion. She'd hoped that he would've by now said something along the lines of 'Although this is a big shock I am ever so happy for us!' or at least a roundabout 'I love you' in the usual Jonathan way.

But no.

Just to Bridget's luck, instead of sweeping her into his arms and giving her lips the workout they'd been denied the past few months, Jonathan was packing.

Why was he packing?

She gasped loudly, covering her mouth.

Jonathan nearly fell over with surprise. He waved his hands around and stared at her in shock, "What what what?"

Her eyes welled up with tears.

Her voice cracked.

Her nose ran.

And she hissed through her covered mouth, "Are you tossing me out?"


	5. Chapter 5 : Excursion

**--Chapter Five—**

**excursion**

Mere hours later, Jonathan found himself gripping Bridget's hand and tugging her through the rosebushes round the back of the O'Connell Mansion, wondering why the sight and scent of rosebushes made him oddly queasy. Before he'd felt slightly guilty that the heavy suitcase held tightly in his other hand was making quite a mess of Evie's handsomely paid for garden, but now he rather felt like the damn rosebushes deserved it. Nasty little buggers.

"Jonathan!" Bridget hissed at his side for what must've been the thousandth time since they'd left the train station.

Cringing, the glare Jonathan sent the woman was angrier than he'd planned and he softened it by giving her hand a good squeeze and looking away. "Just hang on a minute, Bridge. Let me think."

"I've been letting you think since we left the house, Jonathan." She grumbled, creeping through the bushes to stand closer to him. Her eyes darted around nervously, frowning at the house, "At this point whatever your brilliant plan is, it's starting to seem a lot like breaking an entering. Where on earth are we?"

"We're not breaking and entering, Bridge- I've got the bloody key."

"Oh."

That shut her mouth. Silence. At last. Time for Jonathan to think, time to take a breath, time to figure out how he was going to get out of this mess unscathed. Time to decide how to present the future unwed mother of his child to his socially correct sister. Oh yes, he was in for one hell of a night.

And night it was soon becoming. Jonathan had made it back to Cambridge from this very house at a quarter to six, and after packing Bridget's things and shuffling her back to London night had fallen and the only way they were even able to see where they were going was from the ominous glow expelling from the windows of the house. They had a clear view of the back door from the rosebushes, but Jonathan didn't feel the appropriate time had come just yet.

One would think that perhaps Jonathan would need some time alone after all the information he'd recently been privy to. Maybe a good sit in his comfy man's chair, a cup of tea, and a good old fashioned pipe would do his aching brain muscles a bit of good after a day like today. Unfortunately for Jonathan his life had for the most part been spared any major issues to contend with. He had managed to slither through his first forty-two years letting other people handle his problems.

Perhaps that was the reason that the first and only solution to grace his mind had been to find his sister as soon as he possibly could, and have her fix the problem. Of course, this involved enduring her wrath, but at this point Jonathan was confident enough in his helpless oaf charm that he knew it would only take so many puppy dog eyes and feeble smiles to win Evie over.

Now the only hurdle to jump was walking through that door.

"Oh so this is your sister's house!" Bridget exclaimed suddenly, smiling at Jonathan full of pride in her newfound realization.

Thank God she was pretty.

--

"Do you think Uncle Jon knows we're watching, or does he actually think we haven't caught on?"

Rick shook his head, his eyes never leaving the bushes where Jonathan was rustling about with an unidentified companion. "Nope, I think he's clueless. If he knew we were watching he wouldn't still be there."

Father and son stood peering through the library window, looks of amusement gracing their more and more similar expressions. After Jonathan had left for Cambridge and Alex lost his uncle as both babysitter and playmate, young O'Connell began spending the vast majority of his time emulating O'Connell senior, in everything from American accent to merciless Jonathan ridicule.

"What's he doing in the bushes anyway?" Alex asked with genuine interest, standing on his tiptoes to see more than what his height allowed.

A smile played on Rick's face and he shook his head out of the sheer bizarreness of it all, "I don't know, but he's lucky your mother's not watching. He's not alone."

"You can see that? Who's he with?"

Rick began to answer, being able to see the top of a woman's curly blonde head over the bushes, but sudden movement stopped him. He and Alex watched with raised eyebrows and widening eyes as Jonathan & Co. burst through the bushes and made a break across the lawn toward the backdoor, moving at an angle that allowed their audience at the window to see.

But really, they could see enough. They could see Jonathan's awkward gait as he pulled a too-heavy suitcase in one hand, and a too-pregnant woman in the other. They could see in full view the blonde curls and huge belly, Jonathan's nervous eyes and the woman's confused frown. They could see all the poor planning and shoddy logic that went into this brilliant plan, this cunning dart across the garden lawn in the middle of the night seeking solace and solution and-

"So…do you think that's Bridget?"

It only took a thoughtful meeting of eyes for the two to hurry toward the kitchen, hoping to discover just whom Jonathan had brought along with him.

--

"Ouch, ouch, _ouch!_ Jonathan you're hurting me!" Bridget's angry whimper preceded them through the door, loud enough to fill the kitchen but soft enough to not announce their presence to the whole household. She knew enough at this point to keep her voice low; her unasked question had been given a sturdy answer what with all the sneaking in and secrecy of their obviously unexpected visit- Jonathan hadn't told his family about her yet.

The thought actually made Bridget's head spin, and once the couple breached the kitchen door she jerked her wrist free of Jonathan's grasp and glared at the back of his head as he hurried to the opposite door, checking if they'd been detected. Sure, Jonathan hadn't known she was pregnant the last time he had seen his sister's family- but was pregnancy and shame and probable scandal the only reason to inform his relatives of her existence?

Oh, the whole thing was simply infuriating!

"Jonathan." Bridget said firmly, crossing her arms (just barely) over her pregnant belly and clenching her jaw.

Spinning around from peering out the swinging doors toward the living room, Jonathan raised a brow at her and set the heavy suitcase down slowly, finding the tone in her voice somewhat unsettling. "Darling?"

She glared. She sneered. She sniffled. And then finally she spoke, looking away from him in slight embarrassment, "I have to use the Ladies."

A moment passed before Jonathan grinned, crossing the room and placing his hands on Bridget's arms, kissing her on the forehead. He nodded just behind her to a door past the sideboard, "Just through there."

Eyes lowered, Bridget smiled weakly, "Alright."

She felt a hand move from her shoulder to tilt her chin up and her eyes fixed on Jonathan's raised-brow expression. "And cheer up, darling. I've got everything under control."

It was an old trick of his, saying this sort of reassuring thing aloud, whether he believed it or not. "What a hand I've got here!" "Of course I can make it to the lecture in time!" "Don't worry Jon old boy, you're only forty two! Life's not over yet!" He sounded so sincere he almost fooled himself. Perhaps he did have everything handled.

This sudden wave of reassurance lasted to see Bridget leave for the loo. It lasted for Jonathan to lean on the kitchen counter confidently and pop a hard candy from the bowl near the stove into his smirking mouth. It even lasted for a few moments into seeing Rick and Alex come breezing through the kitchen door with smug knowing looks on their faces.

It lasted up until Jonathan realized he was caught red-handed, and sub -sequentially inhaled the hard candy right down his windpipe.

Smashing.

Through tear-filled eyes, Jonathan watched as Rick and Alex stood just inside of the swinging door, Rick's arms crossing over his chest and Alex copying in suit. He coughed and he sputtered and beat his chest like a great bloody ape and all they did was stand there. Bunch of heathens.

After a solid minute and a half of Jonathan coughing up a lung, Rick finally broke his silence with a knowing look, "So, where'd you stash her?"

Finally choking the candy back up into his mouth, Jonathan took a few breaths, making a face as he realized he really didn't want the candy anymore. He crossed the room, opening the sideboard to spit the toffee into the garbage. "Stash who?"

"What do you mean stash who?" Alex exclaimed, saving his arms about, "The pregnant lady you just sprinted across the garden with."

Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, leaning back on the counter once more and scratching the back of his head nervously- but Rick interrupted.

"Oh c'mon Alex, your uncle has obviously forgotten in his old age." Rick gave his son a pat on the back before raising a brow at Jonathan, "Big bellied blondie, about yea-high?"

"Oh THAT pregnant lady, yes I remember." Jonathan exclaimed sarcastically, lowering his tone and glancing down at his hands, nodding over his shoulder, "She's in the loo."

Rick smirked, shaking his head, "And she's really…?" He finished off this question by miming a large pregnant belly.

Without a sound, Jonathan nodded, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Oh boy."

Frowning at his father for not being the one to move ahead with the questioning, Alex piped up excitedly, sounding eerily similar to his mother, "But what are you doing here of all places! Mum's going to kill you, you know that."

"Sssshhhh!" Jonathan hissed, snapping to attention and glancing uneasily at the doorway, "Bloody hell, Alex, keep you voice down. I know all that, but I didn't know what else to do."

"A real picture of maturity you are, Jonathan." Rick droned, crossing past his brother-in-law to retrieve a bottle from above the refrigerator, "Guessing you wouldn't object to a drink?"

"Why start now?" Jonathan replied with a weak smirk, watching Rick fetch down two glasses and promptly fill them with Scotch.

Staring at the two of them in disbelief, Alex let out a lofty snort as he climbed onto the barstool, "Great idea. Mum will love to hear the news from a couple of drunkards."

Rick sent Jonathan a look, which he failed to notice through the bottom of his upturned class, before father-mode kicked in and he nodded toward his son, "Alex, why don't you head up to bed, give your uncle and me some time to smack some sense into him.'

"But Dad!"

"But nothing, kid. And don't let your mother catch you out of bed."

Pouting, Alex hopped off the barstool and trudged toward the door, grumbling incoherently as he went. His uncle watched his shuffle-footed departure with little regret as Rick refilled his drink, and called after the boy in a chipper farewell, "Night Alex!"

As the kid opened the kitchen door his pout melted away into a positively evil little smirk, looking over his shoulder at Jonathan and sarcastically singing, "_G'night Uncle Jon_!"

For a moment, Jonathan couldn't figure out what Alex was so bloody smug about- a moment that too quickly faded. The kitchen door. The evil bedtime disdain. His sister's voice chiming through the hallway toward the door, confused and bewildered. Alex's retreating form was striding away with confidence and Jonathan wistfully recalled liking him so much more a decidedly mature eight-year-old.

"Uncle Jon? What do you mean Uncle-" Evelyn rounded the door into the kitchen to the sight of her husband downing a glass of Scotch, her brother next to him gaping at her in horror, and her son skipping off to bed in her peripheries. "Jonathan what are you doing here?"

The stunned silence of the room was intermingled with the clinking of ice in Rick's glass as he slowly lowered it, and Alex's farewell of 'Goodnight, Mum' in the distance as Jonathan smiled painfully. Could he still cut and run? Was it too late? He figured it couldn't possibly be too hard to catch Bridget on her way out of the loo, drag her out of town and leave Rick to explain. Jonathan even briefly entertained the idea of making off without Bridget— she'd only slow him down!

In the end, it might have been that thought exactly which brought upon the following events- bad karma and whatnot. Or perhaps Bridget's ears were burning as Jonathan thought about her, causing her to hurry back and catch him in the act. But probably she was just done in the loo and returned to the kitchen by nature, unknowingly walking into an O'Connell/Carnahan reunion.

We'll never really know.

But there they all were, Bridget gaping at Evelyn, knowing exactly who she was, Evelyn staring at Jonathan, having not noticed the newcomer, Jonathan sending pleading glances at Rick to man up and save him from certain doom, and Rick watching everyone, mentally calculating who was going to crack first.

And for the second time thus far, Rick sighed and mumbled faintly, "Oh boy…"


End file.
